Sanare Lupum
by Kang Xiu
Summary: In which Remus reads a lot of classical literature, and there is probably slashy subtext, because the Authoress couldn't be bothered to remove it when she made the story gen.


_Sanare Lupum_

* * *

Remus Lupin was sitting in his dormitory after lunch during a free period, reading avidly. He had hoped that the other boys in his dorm, none of whom seemed very anti-social, would stay in the common room. It was his first year at Hogwarts and his first week as well. He had already decided not only would it be better not to get to know anyone too well considering--well, considering--but that he didn't like any of them particularly, anyway. With any luck, they wouldn't bother him. They hadn't yet. So he was horrified to see Sirius Black swaggering into the dormitory and most definitely noticing him. Black was more good-looking than an eleven-year-old ought to be, and quite popular already. 

"What are you reading?"

"It's a muggle book." Remus coloured a little, and touched the back of his book self-consciously. It was a small, grey, hardback with a cloth cover that was fraying at the spine, and stamped gold lettering for the title, and he would much rather Black didn't ask about it.

"What are you reading, Lupin? What's it called?"

Remus sighed. "_King Solomon's Mines_."

"What?" Black sounded incredulous.

"_King Solomon's Mines_," Remus said defensively, then grabbed for the book as Black deftly snatched it out of his hands and flipped it open to the middle.

"'"But my lord has such beautiful white legs!" cried the old man'. Lupin, what the hell?"

Remus briefly wished he had never gotten out of bed that morning and thus avoided this entire scene. In a boarding-school, of course, rumours and news travelled quickly and by dinnertime everyone would probably know about _King Solomon's Mines_ and John Good's beautiful white legs. He was doomed.

Black had turned back to the beginning and was reading on from there, a look of mingled amusement and horror on his face. "Lupin, this is a book about old men comparing their false teeth!"

"It is _not_," said Remus hotly, now wishing that he had the courage to hit Black in _his_ teeth.

"'...Together with his false teeth, of which he had two beautiful sets that, my own being none of the best, have often caused me to break the tenth commandment.' If that isn't old men and false teeth, I don't know what is," Black smirked.

"What? Who's got false teeth?"

Remus saw that his doom was further sealed. James Potter was probably the only person worse than Black, which, he supposed, was why they were inseparable: they knew they could create more havoc together than apart.

"Nothing," he said loudly, and, grabbing his book back from Black, he retreated to his bed, where he sat and looked at them both defiantly.

"What's he reading?" Potter asked Black.

"'_King Solomon's Mines_'," Black mimicked. "'It's a muggle book'."

"It _is_? Well, let's see it, Lupin. Give it here." Potter looked expectant.

"I will _not_."

"Then I'll take it."

And immediately Remus realised he was being attacked. He squirmed and wriggled and kicked as Potter tried to wrestle the book away from him. When Potter's knee rammed into his stomach, he squawked muffledly and dug his nails into Potter's arm. All the while, Black stood by the bed with his eyebrows raised, trying not to laugh.

"Get _off_ me!"

"Is it really worth it, just for a stupid muggle book?" Black asked as Remus bit Potter and got a satisfying yelp for his pains.

"No!" Potter panted out, and began disentangle himself quickly, while Remus grabbed hold of his leg and hung on. "Bloody hell, you leech, get the hell off me!" He kicked out and fell off the bed. Remus had let go and was sitting back, nursing his jaw where Potter's shoe caught him. "My God, for a book!"

Black grinned approvingly. "Not just any book, Potter. _King Solomon's Mines_."

"Sod off," Remus muttered.

"Come on," said Black, and he sauntered out of the room. Potter followed, straightening his robes.

Remus tried to finish his book now that they'd left him in peace, but he couldn't stop thinking of what a nightmare dinner would be. Everyone would know about this. Miserably, he sighed, and smoothed his rumpled bedspread. This was _not_ going to be a good first year at school.

* * *

But to Remus' astonishment, dinner was relatively uneventful, aside from an Incident with cheese, Alexander Mackintosh and Moira Perry from the Hufflepuff table, and a faulty spell they probably should not have been doing. It was later on that things became unfortunate. 

After dinner, he went back up to the common room relieved. He had another muggle book--_The Picture of Dorian Gray_--in his trunk, and he climbed the stairs to the dormitory with high hopes of being able to begin it. But Black was waiting for him by the door.

"Lupin!"

"Leave me alone," said Remus softly, and tried to push past him.

"Look, Lupin--I'm proud of you for thumping Potter like that. Congratulations," Black said seriously, and when Remus tried to push past again, he stopped him and put out his hand invitingly.

Remus emphatically did not shake it.

"Lupin," Black's voice took on a sweet, coaxing note, "we won't bother your books again, even if they are about beautiful white legs and false teeth."

"Leave me alone, all right?" Remus escaped and dug _Dorian Gray_ out of his trunk.

Black followed him. "What's this one, then?"

Remus didn't answer.

"_The Picture of Dorian Gray_. What's it about?"

"I don't know," Remus snapped. "I haven't read it yet."

"What does the back cover say? Back covers are supposed to give away the plot, or at least tell you the wrong one. What's it say? Here, 'When Dorian Gray makes an impulsive wish, things suddenly change, and the boy becomes entrapped in a web of vice, murder, and evil'. That's painful. Probably not a thing what it's like, is it?" He looked up at Remus.

"Go away," Remus told him.

Black grinned, and left the dorm.

* * *

Over the next few weeks Black plagued Remus constantly. He either teased or entreated, and Remus thought he might be going mad. There were only two consolations, the one being that he enjoyed Potions, and, despite everyone else finding it insufferable, History of Magic. The other was that _Dorian Gray_ was turning out to be a wonderful book. Apart from that, he had managed not to make friends with anyone, which was good. 

Then, one day, Black cornered him again after Transfiguration.

"Lupin."

"Black!" Remus recoiled.

"Stop being so stupid. It's pointless. I'm making up, all right?" Black held out his hand.

"No!" said Remus.

Black grabbed him by the shoulders. "What's the hell's wrong with you, anyway? Why don't you talk to anyone? It's not as though I'm not trying!"

"Go _away_."

At that, Black began to shake him. "Why... on earth... should I?" he said between shakes.

Remus kicked at Black's shins. "Let go!"

"Black! Lupin!"

The voice startled them both. Black jumped back and dropped his hands quick as lightening. "Professor!"

Standing in the door of the classroom they'd just left, Professor Vetere simply looked at them. She taught Transfiguration and she had a powerful stare. After a few moments, she said, "That's five points from Gryffindor. Don't fight in the halls again."

"Quite, Professor!" Black ducked his head and dragged Remus off. "There, you see? Acting like an ass lost us five points," he murmured as he continued to drag Remus outside and in the direction of Herbology. They were late.

"It's not my fault," said Remus angrily. "Let me go!"

"Like hell."

For some inconceivable reason, they were paired together for Herbology. They spent the entire time glowering across the Moleste Subridere they were potting.

And Black kept on hounding Remus all the next week.

* * *

On Friday evening, Remus drew the curtains 'round his bed and was buried deep in _Dorian Gray_, imagining he was safe. Within five minutes (just as Dorian was showing Basil Hallward his portrait), Black nudged aside the curtains and looked in at him. 

"Hallo, Lupin."

"Can't you just leave me alone?"

"'Course not." Black flopped down on the bed. "So, why don't you come down to the common room? No one's gotten a chance to meet you, and it's already October."

"I'm reading."

"So I see. What's happening to Dorian now?"

"Shut up."

Black took this book from Remus as easily as he'd taken _King Solomon's Mines_. "I am going to go down to the common room and chuck this thing in the fireplace if you don't go down first."

Remus jumped up. "Give me my book back."

"You are an idiot," Black said scornfully. "As if I'd do that." And he started towards the door.

Remus ran after him. "My book, Black!"

Black gave Remus a pitying look and sprinted down the stairs. When Remus burst into the common room, he was sitting by the fire, poised to throw _Dorian Gray_.

"Black!"

"Fellow Gryffindors, please welcome Remus Lupin," Black announced.

Once again, Remus was attacked.

This time, though, it was rather exhilarating. These people were all right. He got clapped heartily on the shoulders and a few people wanted to know if he'd read the same muggle books they had. Someone randomly complimented his eyes, and he thanked her breathlessly. The heat of the fire and all the people so close, really being friendly, were making him sweat.

By the time everyone had drifted away to their dormitories, he was feeling more exhausted and excited than he had in ages.

Black was still sitting by the fire, and he grinned across the room at Remus. "There, that was all right. You didn't have to be so stupid about it."

"'Sorry," Remus said lightly, trying and nearly succeeding not to be annoyed.

Black came over. "So, why--" he began, then suddenly stopped and added his own hearty thwack to Remus' aching shoulders.

* * *

And Remus came to the startling conclusion that Black was all right. It was several weeks after this conclusion, however, before he told Black about--well, about It. He nearly had when Black asked where he'd been after a full moon, but was afraid to. 

And then--Remus was highly embarrassed about the whole matter afterwards. He didn't slowly lead up to it. He didn't gently explain it after hours of thought. He didn't consider how he would tell Black. He just suddenly said, one afternoon before a class, "Si-Sirius, I'm--"

"What?" Black looked up from his homework, which was due in less than ten minutes.

"I'm a werewolf." Remus' eyes widened. He was not sure for a moment what he'd said.

They were sitting in a corner in their own little spot, and no other groups were close enough to hear Remus. On the other hand, everyone heard Black.

"What?"

"Shhh!" Remus' hands were in the air, and he was making a short, jerky gesture over and over. He didn't know exactly why he was doing it. "Be quiet!"

After a long pause, Black asked, "Are you really?"

"Yes," said Remus miserably.

"Bloody hell." There was another pause. "I say! Didn't you bite Potter when he was trying to get your book? Is he going to--"

"_No_!" Remus whispered. He was aware of everyone looking over at them and he wondered if Black would tell. It wouldn't be all that strange a thing to do. But still--that wasn't the point. As far as Remus was concerned, Black was his only close friend and damn it, he _needed_--it would be impossible to go back to relying only on books after knowing what it was like to have more than that. He looked at Black earnestly. "I-I'm not dangerous, not unless I'm actually--"

Black laughed. "Well, of course you're not dangerous. I can tell that." He ruffled Remus' hair across the table. "So, that's obviously where you were last Thursday. But--where were you?"

"I can't tell you." Remus coloured.

"Don't be stupid," said Black disparagingly.

"The Shrieking Shack..."

"What's it like?"

"I don't know. I hurt myself a lot. I-I bite myself and claw myself."

"But you weren't cut up or anything Friday morning. So Madame Pomfrey knows," Black mused. "Does everybody know?"

"The teachers. All of them, I guess."

"All right."

Remus froze. "What are you planning on doing?"

"Nothing at all, my dear Lupin. Really, nothing." Black looked solemn. "Oh, by the way, Pettigrew keeps tagging along after Potter and myself. We're wondering if you can have a talk with him. You're better at telling people to sod off without making half the school call us bullies."

"Er--all right."

Black smiled. "Well! We're late for class, aren't we, Lupin? We'd better go."

Remus smiled too; he was incredibly relieved. "Yes." Quickly, he grabbed the bag with his books and homework and started after Black.

* * *

"Pettigrew's all right, you know." 

"What?"

"I said, Pettigrew's all right. I talked to him, the way you said. He's a little pathetic, but there's nothing wrong with him. I rather like him." Remus watched Sirius quietly.

They had progressed to first names by now--it was mid-December--and Remus was no longer intimidated by him. It felt good. It also meant that, when Sirius wrinkled his nose and raised one eyebrow and began to say something which would doubtlessly be scathing, Remus was able to shut him up by repeating firmly, "I rather like him. He's quite all right."

"Yes, but he's irritating. I don't like short people who waffle."

"He's afraid of you. You're loud."

"Stupid," Sirius said under his breath. But he didn't say anything else, not even when Remus began to invite Pettigrew over to do homework with them.

Now, however, Potter was turning into the odd one out. They kept forgetting him by mistake. That went on for another week before he beat Sirius up after class and was welcomed back with open arms.

It seemed as though everything were all right. Remus didn't even mind It as much as he used to, because Sirius and Potter were both sympathetic and they gently, amiably shoved him around and asked him if he were all right after full moons. Even Pettigrew worried about him. It had taken him longer to explain matters to Potter and Pettigrew, but at last he had, at Sirius' insistence. Sirius thought they should all know, as they were friends.

And on Christmas, Remus had found a large crate at the foot of his bed. There was a little note that read "To Moony" and for a few moments he couldn't think who on earth would have sent it. Then he saw Sirius grinning across the room at him.

"'Moony'?" he asked.

"Shut up and open it," said Sirius.

The crate was full of books--muggle books. He pulled out copies of _Allen Quartermain_; _The Mysterious Island_; _The Last Day of a Condemned Man_; _The Enchanted Isles_; a Nathaniel Hawthorne collection; Dante's _Inferno_, _Purgatorio_, and _Paradisio_; an Edgar Allen Poe collection; and books by Jane Austen, Checkov, Arthur Conan Doyle, Dickens, Forster, Robert Louis Stevenson, Jonathan Swift, Tolstoy, Virginia Wolfe and Oscar Wilde. Remus stared. "Where did you get these?"

Sirius had looked haughty. "I have sources. They're all right, aren't they?" he added worriedly. "The Ravenclaw I got them from said that you obviously liked classics and that sort of thing."

"They're all right!" said Remus, slightly awed. Looking closer, he'd found a copy of an Arthur Conan Doyle--_The Tragedy of the Korosko_--that he'd had no idea even existed.

His own gift to Sirius had been much less impressive. It included a book he'd found that seemed quite interesting (it detailed how to make magical maps by compiling different spells) and several choice chocolate frog cards from his collection.

But Sirius made a great display of appreciating these, and talked delightedly of making a map by means of the spellbook. Remus felt wonderful.

* * *

"Sirius?" 

"Hmm? What?" Sirius glanced over. He was scribbling something that looked like a long and complicated spell on a scrap of spare parchment.

Remus paused. He wasn't quite sure if he should ask about it or not. The thing was, recently, Sirius, James, and Peter had been spending rather a lot of time in the library or huddled in a group somewhere, writing down things from large books. Remus was, of course, not really jealous that they were doing all this without him, but he wished he knew what was going on. What Sirius was writing now was just more of this. James was not far off, talking quietly to Peter over another large book.

"Well?" Sirius asked.

"Well, what are you doing?"

"Hmm?" said Sirius innocently. Remus couldn't tell if it was real or feigned.

"That," he gestured at the paper. "And those other things."

"Other things? What other--_oh_, _those_ other things. We were waiting for you to say something. Well, friend Remus, we're trying to do something about your situation."

"My--Sirius!"

"And to think you always complain about me being loud. Yes, your situation. We're still having some trouble, though. We've not actually found anything helpful yet (and we've had to break into the Restricted area of the library, too), and term's almost over already! Sad, really. But we'll all be working on it over the summer, and of course there's next year. Why are you looking at me that way? Do you want to spend the rest of your life chewing on yourself in the Shrieking Shack?"

"Sirius, you're _mad_!"

"Completely," said Sirius amiably, and went back to scribbling out the spell. "James! Come over here and see if this works with what you're looking at."

"Sirius, wait a minute. You can't do this."

"James, does this look all right?" Sirius asked loudly, ignoring Remus.

"No, Sirius," James replied, equally loudly, "I think you'd better have another go at it."

"Wait--"

"Shut up, Remus. James and I are talking," said Sirius reproachfully.

Remus shut up. He was realising a sort of warm feeling in his chest. Sirius and James and Peter were--it was-- Suddenly, he said, "Sirius. Can I help?"

"Well, of course. You can go with Peter to the library. It's ten o'clock, you know, and time for our weekly storming. You'll borrow James' cloak."

"Yes, Sirius."

As he left with Peter for the library, he could hear James saying, "So, if we put this one with that one you did yesterday, wouldn't it sort of--it says here _purge_--?"

* * *

All through the summer, they kept up correspondence. Sirius was still looking at spells and sending them to the other three, and Remus spent so much time in his room studying these spells along with the few that James and Peter sent that his mother began to tease him. 

Summer was distinctly torturous. All Remus wanted was to get back to Hogwarts and work with Sirius. For the first time, he saw a possibility that he might not have to be werewolf all his life. They might be able to do something about it. The idea made him desperate to keep working, and, as much as they all tried, they needed to library at Hogwarts for that.

It was with relief that he went to Diagon Alley with his mother in late August. It was too much to hope that he'd be there on the same day as James, Sirius, and Peter, but if he was lucky, he'd meet at least one of them.

It was James he met. They shopped for their things together, and James laughed and detailed his summer apart from spell-scrounging. He also mentioned that he'd begun _King Solomon's Mines_.

"Just to see the bits Sirius talked about," he said. "Because you wouldn't let me have yours."

"Right," said Remus. He was pleased.

When they parted, he felt a wave of loneliness. He couldn't wait for September First.

* * *

Platform 9 3/4 was covered with people: students dragging their baggage around, adults calling out; and of course there were the animals, all screeching, yowling or croaking. The train was already crowded. Remus hadn't found Sirius or James or Peter yet, and he decided just to get a compartment quickly and wait for them. 

He'd been waiting a few moments when a pale, thin boy slipped into the compartment and closed the door quickly. The boy started when he saw Remus.

"'Sorry. Didn't see you were here," he muttered, but he didn't make any move to leave.

"That's all right," said Remus.

The boy didn't try to talk, and Remus attempted to look out the window and watch for the others. He was, however, continually glancing over at the boy.

Remus'd seen him before, but never talked to him. He was from Slytherin. Remus wasn't sure of his name--it was something was an 's' sound in it. His eyes were black. His hair was also black, and Remus was a little bothered by the fact that it looked extremely greasy.

"I'm Remus Lupin."

The boy gave him a sideways look, but didn't say anything.

"What's your name?"

"Severus Snape," the boy said quietly.

"Do you like to read?"

"Sometimes."

"D'you like Hogwarts?" Snape's answering so short and being so quiet was making him nervous.

"No."

"Why not?" asked Remus, feeling like a fool.

But Snape just gave him another sideways look without answering.

At that moment, the door to the compartment slid aside and Peter peeked in. "Remus? Oh! Remus! We've been looking all over the train for you."

"I'm right here," Remus stated the obvious.

"Oh! Yes. Yes. I'll go fetch the others." Peter hurried off.

Snape stood.

"You don't--have to go," Remus said softly.

Once again, Snape gave him a look, and slipped out of the compartment as quietly as he'd entered. He'd not been gone a minute before Remus heard some loud, triumphant voices and a yelp. He flinched.

Then Sirius burst into the compartment and he forgot about it. Sirius pounced him and laughed delightedly and pushed him about, all the while talking quickly and ecstatically about all the things he'd been finding out about during the summer and how good it was to see Remus again! and they only needed to find a few select books in the Restricted section, and they might be making some headway and Hell! he was looking tall! What did he mean by getting tall during the summer? and then if they worked out a few more things-- until Sirius was out of breath and James was snorting amusedly at them both.

It was apparent, however, that if Remus was desperate to find a cure for himself, Sirius was obsessed with it. It was a challenge, and Sirius disliked being bested by anything.

So they only talked about their summers a little in between Sirius showing new spells that they would string together like muggle paper clips and drape Remus with. The four of them got their carried-on luggage off the train shouting cryptic fragments to one another, and huddled together in their coach, and walked into the school itself still in a little group, comparing notes.

But by December of that year, they were forced to realise that it was hopeless. They had tried any number of things, and nearly killed Remus in the process, and still there didn't seem to be any change. The Whomping Willow grew bigger. The Shrieking Shack got more and more of a reputation. Remus was heartbroken.

Christmas was significantly subdued. They stayed behind at dinner; no one felt like eating. Peter trailed off to the library, entrusted with James' cloak, while James and Remus played wizard chess in the common room, each letting the other win. Only Sirius was still fiercely trying. He sat by the fire, frowning, flipping through books, cursing, and writing a few things down now and then before crossing them out heavily.

Suddenly Peter came running back.

"James! Sirius! _Remus_!"

"What?" said James.

"What is it, Peter?" asked Remus tiredly.

"Shut up, Peter," Sirius snapped.

Peter had a large book clutched to his chest and was entirely out of breath. "_Remus_," he gasped again. "I think I've _found_ something!"

Sirius slammed his hands down on the seat of the armchair and started up, spilling books, papers, and ink all over the floor. Remus and James were already trying to get Peter to tell them _what_. Even the smallest chance that there might be something--

Peter had been convinced to put his book (with a golden Restricted stamped across the front cover) down on the floor, and was opening it up to a certain chapter, marked Animagus in tall letters. "Animagus" seemed to be a potion laced with spells to make it permanent, and the margins were illustrated with witches and wizards and lots of animals.

"This--look at this--" he panted. "There was a stack of books behind the desk--I unlocked the doors the way you showed me, Sirius--"

Sirius was, by now, standing over the book, and gazing down at it fixedly. "How will this help?"

"Well--I thought--"

"I see!" said James. "It won't fix you, Remus, but we'll sort of go with you. If we're animals, you can't hurt us if you bite us. We'll take care of you."

"Look how complicated it is," whispered Remus.

"We can do it," Sirius said disdainfully.

They all laughed weakly. "Of course we can," said Remus.

"Hurrah for Peter!" James shoved him playfully.

Peter smiled, looking surprised, as though he hadn't thought that what he'd found could be really useful. "Happy Christmas, Remus," he said.

* * *

The spells and potions that had to be put together to make them Animagi took three years. Remus had worried at first that Sirius might be jealous that Peter had found the thing instead of him, but he didn't seem to be. He just worked on it like a fanatic, talking about what needed to be done and how they would go about it. 

Sirius proclaimed himself the person in charge of finding supplies. Remus would make sure they were doing everything correctly. James would keep tallies. And Peter, because Peter had found the book, would get to put the put-inable things in the cauldron that was living darkly in a secret room at the end of a locked corridor. All of them would say spells.

James, as the secretary, left on the wall of the room a list of all the parts of spells they needed; of all the ingredients; of all the books; and of all the steps. They were to cross things off as they were accomplished or gathered, so that anyone could drop in at any time with a possession and add it to the growing piles.

Remus went daily to make sure it was all right. It had to meet certain qualifications Sirius came up with. It must be the correct colour, correct consistency, correct smell. Everything that was gone from the piles had to be crossed off the lists.

Peter loved going whenever he could and adding things, gasping and smiling with pleasure as they disappeared into the mess. Then it turned agreeable shades of blue-black or green and he smiled even more.

Sirius brought back piles of ingredients at every opportunity. He had taken over James' cloak, and only threatening would get it away from him. No one knew quite how he managed to get everything, but more than once he was oddly short of pocket money for Hogsmeade or had surprising cuts and scratches.

But despite all the work it was taking, and all the narrow escapes from teachers who wondered where they kept disappearing to, or friends who wanted to know why they were missing dinner so often and were never around during free periods, Remus had never been quite so happy.

He had resigned himself to always being It. Now he was concentrating on the fact that the others were doing all this for him, and if James was right, he'd never have to stay alone in the Shrieking Shack ripping himself apart again.

Towards the end of their fourth year, he saw Snape again in a meeting that was more than just sharing a class.

Actually, what he did was crash into him. Snape was sprinting in the opposite direction around a corner, and they fell together in a wave of black robes.

"Ow! Get off!"

Remus disentangled himself, stood, and offered Snape a hand. "'Sorry. Here."

Snape got up by himself. "Excuse me," he said tightly, and was starting off again when Remus stopped him again.

"I'm sorry about the train--er--two years ago."

Snape laughed cynically. "Quite so. Now, if you'll excuse me--"

Just then, Sirius rounded the corner as well and halted in surprise. "Remus! Ah. You stopped him for me."

"Wait, Sirius--"

Snape had disappeared.

"Ah well." Sirius shook his head.

"Sirius, were you _chasing_ him?" asked Remus incredulously.

"Well, of course. He's a Slytherin and a particularly greasy git."

Remus walked off.

After a few days, he forgave Sirius the incident, partly due to the fact that Snape _was_ something of a git; but he was irritated enough that James and Peter pressed them both to know what had happened until Sirius explained. Neither of them could quite understand why Remus was upset.

Nothing stopped work on the potion, however; not even summers, during which time they put a strange sort of freezing spell Sirius found on the mess so that it stayed neutral until they came back and resumed the creation.

Then, in February of their fifth year, Sirius brought back a last few ingredients; James tallied off a last few things on the list; Peter added a last few things to the cauldron; they said a last few spells together; and Remus pronounced it finished.

He felt quite cold. There was every chance it wouldn't work. Three years of standing over this little cauldron--it might not come off after all.

"Well," he said weakly, "who's first?"

Sirius. Of course.

He dipped out a ladleful into a bowl stolen from the kitchens and murmured his name to the mess. It changed colours and temperature, so that he had to put it down for a moment, then cooled to pale sea-green.

Sirius drank it quickly, pulling faces. "I wonder why all potions taste disgusting?" he laughed, with only the very slightest hint of nervousness. Peter looked admiring at that.

Suddenly, Sirius paused. "It's cold. It feels rather slimy..." His face contorted. "I think I'm going to be _ill_."

Instinctively, everyone stepped back from him, and he glowered.

"Right, now--urgh, it's still awful--" He collapsed on the floor. Remus started forward, and then realised he was trying not to grin. "I think I'm _dying_... Oooh, all right, now it's better--" And Sirius froze, wrinkled his forehead as though he were concentrating, and slowly began to change.

"It's working!" Peter shrieked.

"Shut up," said James, punching him lightly while staring at Sirius.

Remus was watching in complete fascination. Sirius began to crinkle up at the same time he started growing thick, black fur, and in a matter of moments what was lying on the floor, tangled in Sirius' clothing, with its feet in the air, was a huge, black dog. It flipped itself over and looked at them mournfully. Remus dropped to his knees and began getting it out of the robes. At last free, it stood. Awkwardly, as though it didn't know quite how its body worked.

"He really did it," James whispered.

The Sirius-dog barked softly and jumped up on Remus, licking his face.

"Argh--_Sirius_!" he said, half-giggling.

"James! James, let's do it now," said Peter urgently. The Sirius-dog watched closely as Peter and James both poured ladlefuls in their own bowls and said their names.

Their changes went just as smoothly as Sirius' had, although Peter was rather pathetic about the cold feeling and his upset stomach. Remus looked around the room at the lovely, furry black Sirius-dog, at the tall, fawn-coloured James-stag, and the little brown Peter-rat standing on its hind legs, and he smiled.

"Well, it worked," he said.

* * *

Remus woke Sirius early the next morning. He was still feeling fluttery in his chest with the excitement of the potion-spell having_ worked_. Sirius, however, was yawning hugely and rubbing at his eyes with the back on his hand. 

"Why're you so tired, then?"

"Oh, I was up late last night. I'd been practising changing and walking. It's--strange, having four legs."

"Sirius--what does it feel like? Changing, I mean."

"I don't know. It's sort of funny. It's very _hot_," he said, considering. "All the fur. It's a bit heavy, too. But I like it. I can hear much better. Oh! But I can't see colours hardly, and that's _annoying_."

"I always almost can. I suppose it's because of being part human really, but it's like looking through dark glasses or at colour photos."

"You're right."

"There's a full moon in three weeks," said Remus after a pause.

"I know." Sirius was yawning again.

"Are you worried?"

"Are you?" With a soft, whuffy breath, Sirius glanced over.

"What if I hurt you, or--or Peter, or--"

"Then James'll trample you, and I'll bite you."

"Will you," Remus said, trying to be dry or cynical or something that wasn't apprehensive and stupid.

"Certainly."

"Good. --Well. Breakfast in half an hour. I suppose we'd better get ready."

"Right."

Remus began searching in the pale light from the window for his trunk of clothes. He could hear the pad of Sirius' feet as he did likewise, and he sighed happily to himself.

He wondered if this was all because of _King Solomon's Mines_ first year. If that were true, he ought to see about getting a mount and a glass case for his copy.


End file.
